


Different This Time

by InvertedPhantasmagoria



Series: Tentacle-man Smut [2]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Affection, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Anxiety, Consentacles, Cuddling & Snuggling, Hollows are miserable, Light Dom/sub, Multiple Orgasms, Other, Overstimulation, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Reader-Insert, Self-Hatred, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Touch-Starved, Trust Issues, Tumblr Prompt, Vaginal Fingering, Vibrators, Weird Biology, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 12:24:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21410155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InvertedPhantasmagoria/pseuds/InvertedPhantasmagoria
Summary: Aaroniero’s human face runs through a series of very interesting expressions, ending in him looking down, blank like he doesn’t know quite how to react. He still hasn’t tried to pull his hand away from yours.Eventually, his fingers squeeze down on yours just a bit. Gently. And then, very quietly, he manages to get an actual string of words out.“Do it again.”. . .Because apparently the first one of these went over well.
Relationships: Aaroniero Arruuerie/Reader
Series: Tentacle-man Smut [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1543411
Comments: 3
Kudos: 145





	Different This Time

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. I got like five requests for more Aaroniero smut after posting the first one of these, so here we are. Part two of Aaroniero smut, this time featuring praise kink, overstimulation, and even more fluff! Because the nasty tentacle man deserves it~ o3o
> 
> Bleach tumblr: arrancxr.tumblr.com
> 
> Personal tumblr: invertedphantasmagoria.tunblr.com
> 
> Writing Discord: https://discord.gg/DK5NYbE

You’re getting used to things. Or more like Aaroniero is. After the particular incident that was your first moment of sexual intimacy, after the incident that involved Aaroniero dropping his human form entirely and showing you what he really looks like, things change real fast. 

Namely in the sense that Aaroniero spends a solid two days glued to you, then twice as many as far away as possible, probably due to sheer embarrassment. You’re almost starting to feel bad for him. 

Even once that particular bit of weirdness goes away, he stays nervous. Every time you so much as touch him, even as simple as your fingers brushing against his gloved ones, Aaroniero flinches hard enough that you can see it, escaping whatever situation he was in as quickly as possible to presumably spare his pride. Or whatever he thinks he has now. 

“You’re being stupid,” you tell him at one point, grabbing Aaroniero’s wrist just lightly enough that he won’t feel like you’re trapping him. 

“What do you mean by that?” asks his human voice, through that face.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. There’s no need to hide from me. Which you  _ are  _ doing. It’s so obvious it kind of hurts. Can we talk about this, like, actually talk about this?” It’s kind of hopeful. There’s a good chance you’re just going to wind up scaring him off even more. 

Instead, Aaroniero’s fake face just makes a very nervous expression, something twitching up near his eye and mouth quirking down. 

“You’re the stupid one here,” he mutters, eyes flicking away from your gaze. “Wanting to get so close to an abomination.” And okay, that’s more direct self-loathing than you’ve heard in a while.  _ Ouch.  _

“And you’re not an abomination,” you reply, dead serious. “Do I act like I’m disgusted by you? No. You’re just a very sweet, very handsome Hollow.” Out of sheer spite for how self-hateful he’s acting, you change your grip on Aaroniero’s wrist so you’re holding his hand instead. 

Aaroniero makes a truly pitiable face, staring at the point of contact like he can’t believe he’s allowed to have it. The first couple of days after the incident were like that; a very tired-out Hollow remaining curled up in your bed and sinking into every bit of contact you gave him. He’d put up his human skin again as quickly as possible, sure, but you still thought you were getting somewhere with all of the actually liking him stuff. 

So you, with a sigh, make him sit down on the bed, purposefully leaving the exit within easy view. You give him a look like it’s time to have a very deep conversation and there’s absolutely no getting out of it now. 

“Alright, now why are you hiding from me? Sex stuff aside, did I do anything that made you think I don’t like you? Because I do. You’re pretty and good just the way you are, and I’m not going to change my mind on that.” You say it as simply as you can, hoping the words will get through. 

“Because you should be disgusted. You should change your mind. Hollows...  _ things _ like me, what you’re doing to me isn’t normal.” Even though Aaroniero’s human face is still solid, you can picture the twin voices loud and clear. You miss them. They sound more like what you know is  _ him.  _ “You’re being foolish and you’ll change your mind. And then I’ll be alone.”

“Um... no? I’m not going to do that. I’m not that mean.” You scoot closer to him, taking his hand in yours; the left one. Once again, Aaroniero flinches. “I don’t care if you’re a Hollow or anything else, you get nice things too. Like, the absolute nicest I can give you. Whatever you want, whatever I can do that’ll make you feel good, I’m okay with that. I won’t get tired of you or decide that you’re some kind of monster I shouldn’t love.”

Aaroniero’s human face runs through a series of very interesting expressions, ending in him looking down, blank like he doesn’t know quite how to react. He still hasn’t tried to pull his hand away from yours. 

Eventually, his fingers squeeze down on yours just a bit. Gently. And then, very quietly, he manages to get an actual string of words out. 

“Do it again.”

Oh.  _ Oh.  _ If you’re interpreting that right, it means that Aaroniero did very much like what you did to him the week before. You can feel yourself flushing a bit, but also staring at the poor man with predatory interest. 

“If I’m reading this right, absolutely. Just tell me what I need to do for you.” You slowly pull the glove off of Aaroniero’s left hand, baring his fingers then pressing a kiss to the center of his palm like you knew got a reaction last time. Now, that hand slowly starts shifting, sliding out of its human shape and into the soft, familiar lines of the tentacles that you know. 

Aaroniero keeps his eyes squeezed tightly shut as that hand changes. He looks afraid, which won’t do at all. You stroke your fingers over the soft, tender flesh of them, skin-on-skin. They curl around your hand like they need the attention very badly, squirming restlessly against your warmth. 

“Fine,” he says, eyes still tightly closed. “If you really think you want this. I’ll... believe you. For now. Just until you prove me wrong.”

A lot of that is bluffing and you know it, but as soon as the words are out, Aaroniero’s skin starts to ripple again. Just like last time, his skin twists and pulls back little by little, revealing the same mass of red flesh and tentacles that you remember, all soft, gooey flesh and curling tentacles holding all of it together in a human-ish form. Aaroniero shifts into the same form you know from before, his face transforming last as he gives you a look of raw hope. The last you see of his human eyes look almost panicked. 

“There we go,” you say when Aaroniero is done, when it’s the two heads staring at you now. “That’s right.” You settle yourself on the bed beside him, smiling like he’s doing exactly what you were hoping he would. 

“ **Right, you say?** ” the deep voice comments, sounding dangerously bitter. “ **We’ll see how long you think this form is ‘right’. ** _ Please don’t take back what you said. I don’t want you to take it back. _ ”

Once again, the self-loathing issues are hitting full-force. Your heart hurts. You can understand  _ why _ , but that makes absolutely nothing better.

You rub your hand up the side of what seems to be an arm, up the spiral of tentacles holding it in place. Aaroniero makes one of the same choking noises you’re getting familiar with, his heads rolling over in the gooey mass of tissue to look at you with pure hesitancy and almost-fear.

The tissue is smooth under your touch, as cool as Aaroniero’s human skin ever was. It seems to be sensitive too, judging from the way he shivers at even the light brush of contact. You weigh your options. There are a lot of things you could do here. A lot of things that would be “like last time”. You don’t really know what lines are okay to cross, what Aaroneiro would even like besides the obvious of you touching him. You don’t know quite where you’re supposed to start, even if you do have some ideas pressing in.

So you start by kissing him. Not quite properly, because the closest thing Aaroniero has to a human mouth is the opening on his left hand... but you make do with that pretty easily. Aaroniero whimpers when you press your lips to the little opening– a high, needy, absolutely inhuman sound. The tentacles squirm gently over your skin, mystifyingly tender. 

“You’re doing great,” you say on impulse when you dare to move down the bed towards the point of this all. “I mean it. I know this is hard for you.”

And that–  _ that  _ gets a noise that you weren’t expecting. 

Aaroniero actually squeaks, limbs curling in ever-so-slightly. “ ** _Wh-what are you saying? _ ** **You’re joking, aren’t you? ** _ You’re making fun of me. _ ” Both voices stutter through something like a response. He’s horribly unsteady. You can  _ feel  _ him shaking– maybe even see it. You’re sitting between Aaroniero’s legs now, running your hand lightly up his thigh, and even that slight bit of contact seems to be wrecking him. Even as you’re worried sick, the dramatic reaction is starting to give you ideas. 

“Nope, not joking. You’re wonderful.” With those words, you lean down enough to press a kiss to one of the tentacles binding together Aaroniero’s inner thigh. His whole body jerks like he’s been shocked. 

“ **You’re stupid. You’re a st-stupid human and you don’t understand a–** ” The low voice is abruptly cut off by you lightly trailing one finger up the seam between his legs. His thighs try to snap shut around your hand, probably trying to protect himself, but you gently hold him in place.

“I know how to make you feel good. I did okay last time, right? I’ll take care of you. You’re doing perfect. I know you’ll be okay.” You let your voice drop to something low and coddling, softer than you’re used to. 

If Aaroniero was breathing, you imagine he’d be hyperventilating. Every tentacle on him is tensed and coiled when you move to stroke up the little seam again, a few of them even twitching miserable. His head has tipped back, both smaller ones rolled back so that they don’t have to look at you. He probably thinks you’re going to hurt him. Or worse, hate him for being what he is. You’re just going to have to prove all of that wrong. 

When you press your fingers  _ inside  _ just a bit, Aaroniero is already wet. Pale red fluid spills out over your fingertips immediately, slicking the skin. Aaroniero whimpers at the touch, then makes a miserable keening sound when you slide the first finger inside, slow and steady and gentle. He’s impossibly soft inside, maybe just a bit warmer than the rest of him, silky walls spasming around your one finger like that touch alone is so, so much. Two in-and-out motions leave him whining, whole body shaking hard. You stroke at the smaller, softer tentacles inside of him and watch him writhe. 

“Is that okay?” you ask. “Doesn’t hurt, does it?” You kind of need to know for sure. You kind of just want to hear him admit it. 

Aaroniero whines something affirmative in response, sounding absolutely humiliated. If he had a lip, you think he’d be biting down on it hard enough to draw blood. His hands are clawing into your sheets anyway. 

Two fingers and Aaroniero absolutely shudders, clenching down around the digits like a vice. Whatever unnatural Hollow strength he has is quickly being sapped away. You can hold his thighs open easily. Just from two fingers inside of him, you have him this weak. The trust is a staggering thought, and you twist your fingers just right at the thought. Aaroniero deserves this. He deserves the best you can give him. 

“You’re doing great,” you tell him again. “I mean it. I know this is scary, but you’re taking it so well. You’re beautiful.” You wish you could kiss him. As it is, you just lean forward enough to intertwine the fingers of your free hand with the mass of tentacles that makes up his left.

Aaroniero makes some horrible moan in response, a sharp, gurgling sound slipping into the tone. It’s inhuman, half-terror and half-pleasure. Every part of him is going limp as you curl your fingers against his walls. 

“ **Sh-Shut up,** ” the deep voice tries to growl. “ _ No, keep talking, p-please. Your voice sounds so nice, _ ” the high one counters. 

Translation, he’s feeling good and doesn’t know how to react. One half wants to spare his pride while the other wants to soak up all the attention he can get. Deciding that you probably should give him more, you carefully, slowly slip a third finger inside. The initial stretch gains a full-body jolt from Aaroniero, his hips arching off the bed before every part of him goes limp. 

“There we go. Perfect. You’re taking me perfectly. Does it feel good?” An obvious question when he’s all but shaking. “I’m still not disgusted. You’re pretty and soft and you look so good all overwhelmed. I wouldn’t step away for anything. You’re wonderful just the way you are.”

With that, you twist your fingers, allowing two of them to once again hook under one of the tentacles lining his walls. Just as expected, Aaroniero shrieks, body jerking up tense as every tentacle on him tries to curl in. 

He comes hard, clenching down around your fingers. The softer tentacles inside of him loosen and try to curl around your fingers, desperately looking for something to squeeze onto while he spasms and jerks. The noises the poor man is making have long surpassed human. 

Like last time, you don’t let up. With a smile that you’re not sure Aaroniero even sees. You spread your fingers. He’s wet and loose around you, taking the stretch perfectly, inner tentacles taking the opportunity to slide in between the gaps between your fingers and latch on tight. The soft surface squeezes down around your hand, and when you dare to give the lightest squeeze back, Aaroniero all but screeches, half-rolling onto his side on instinct and trying to curl up into a ball to  _ hide.  _

All it takes is a few more torturously pleasurable squeezes and the inner tentacles come sliding out in a rush, pushing your fingers out right along with them. The deep purple lengths of them squirm against the open air desperately, trying to cling onto your fingers even now. Aaroniero makes a noise like he’s dying, shuddering at the sheer sensitivity. 

You get an idea very quickly when just the brush of the roughness of your fingertips makes him yelp. Those tentacles are so, so delicate. So smooth and fragile. You wonder what vibrations would feel like on them. 

Curling your fingers, you stroke at the parts of the tentacles that would normally stay pressed up against Aaroniero’s inner walls. To his credit, he doesn’t start begging. You’re still getting the same inhuman sounds of pleasure out of him, but a few pieces of his pride remain intact. 

On a hunch, you press a fingertip down against where the tentacles have emerged from, where he’s still open and slick and drooling the same pale red fluid. As soon as there’s the slightest pressure against that opening, as soon as your fingertip barely breeches the stretched-open slit, Aaroniero  _ howls,  _ fighting to snap his thighs shut as the extended tentacles curl desperately against your hand. So that pressure is a lot. A  _ lot.  _

You manage to slide one finger up to the first knuckle inside the slit, pressed up against Aaroniero’s tentacles before he comes again with a screech and a wet gush of fluid from the slit you’re still stretching open. This time, instead of tensing up, he goes absolutely limp, not a bit of strength left in him to try to hold himself together. You think he might be melting a bit. 

“Wonderful, good job. You’re doing great, precious, I promise. We can be done if you want to, but I can keep going too. I have an idea for something that should feel really good, but it’s all up to you. You choose what would feel best for you.” You make sure to praise him. You’re sure he needs it. Aaroniero makes a choking noise at the kind words, tentacles still coiled tight around your fingers. He sounds like he might be dying. 

“ ** _J-Jus– just d-do it,_ ** ” Aaroniero hisses, voice absolutely wrecked. Just talking seems to take all the energy out of him, his head dropping back against the bed right after, twin heads lolling in the gooey tissue. 

Well, he did give you permission. 

You lean over to the side of the bed, grabbing a mostly-inconspicuous vibrator from the nightstand drawer. You’re  _ really  _ glad you’re doing this kind of thing at your place, where you have access to these kinds of things. 

Sitting back between Aaroniero’s thighs, you hold the little black bullet out towards his tentacles, letting them coil around the smooth surface and get used to the inorganic chill of it. Aaroniero shudders again at having something to latch onto, even before you turn it on. 

“Alright. If this is too much, tap me. I’ll turn it off as soon as I know you’ve had enough. It’ll probably feel weird at first, but it should be really, really good.” You smile at Aaroniero even if you’re not sure if he can see you. “I know I keep saying it, but you really are doing great. I love seeing you like this. You might not like this form, but I do. You’re soft and receptive and these,” you brush a finger along one tentacle, “are perfect. I love how sensitive you are and how good I can make you feel. You’re beautiful.”

The upper head rolls to look at you, what you imagine is disbelief in its eyes. The lower one can’t seem to bear meeting your gaze. 

Before Aaroniero can tell you you’re wrong, you press the on switch. 

The vibrator buzzes to life, thankfully on the lowest setting. Almost instantly, Aaroniero  _ screeches,  _ actually twisting out of your grip and onto his side. He’s already oversensitive from two orgasms and a lot of teasing. You can imagine that the vibrator feels like somewhere between heaven and utter torture. Even so, his tentacles cling stubbornly to the toy. 

It doesn’t take more than thirty seconds for Aaroniero to come again. This time, it’s with a dual-tone scream into the sheets, almost silent. A small puddle of red fluid is spreading under him.

Not twenty more seconds and he’s coming  _ again,  _ body spasming out of his control as even then, he can’t make himself let go of the toy still buzzing torturously against him. You run your hand up Aaroniero’s back, trying to be comforting. He leans into the touch without a thought. 

You decide pretty quickly that that’s enough. Four orgasms on someone who’s only had two in their life before this is plenty. You probably should give him some kind of relief before he actually melts. It takes actual effort to roll Aaroniero onto his back long enough to reach between his legs and get the toy turned off, but when you do, every part of him goes instantly limp, puddling against the bed with a cut-off moan. 

Unlike last time, it takes a while for his tentacles to retract, the soft curl of him resting limply against his skin instead. Aaroniero lays there, looking like a puddle of a Hollow for longer than you know he’d want to admit it. This body doesn’t appear to breathe, but if it did, you have a feeling his chest would be heaving. As soon as you get the vibrator properly set down, you lay down right behind him, pulling the mass of tissue and tentacles right up close where he belongs; next to you. 

Aaroniero whines at the contact, shuddering, which you expect. You think you can actually feel parts of him softening up to mold more closely around you. His tentacles are starting to try to cling to your skin. 

“Was that okay?” you ask with confidence, pressing a quick kiss to what amounts to the back of Aaroniero’s neck. 

The closest thing you get to a response is a defeated sound that’s somewhere between a moan and a whine. Aaroniero can’t even bring himself to roll over and snuggle closer to you, so you do that for him, squeezing just tight enough that you imagine it feels a lot like holding him together. 

As much as both of you probably need a bath, contact is more important right now. You can get cleaned up later, when Aaroniero is actually up to  _ moving  _ again. For the moment, you really just want to hold him. For the moment, you think he really just needs to be held. Even in his human form, physical affection makes Aaroniero look like he can’t believe what you’re doing. He probably assumes you wouldn’t want to touch him in this form at all, which is honestly kind of a travesty. 

“I love you,” you say, squeezing just a bit tighter and nuzzling at the back of his neck. Aaroniero makes a miserably overwhelmed noise. 

“ _ You’re too kind to me, _ ” the higher voice barely manages to whisper. The lower one, you assume, is too humiliated to say anything. “ _ It’s not fair. _ ”

In response, you hum against Aaroniero’s skin, rubbing one of the larger tentacles around his midsection comfortingly. You don’t need to say anything back. You can already feel him getting melty and sleep-lax. 

Aaroniero cuddles back against you, most likely too worn out to worry about how repulsive you might find his real form. With both voices, he lets out something that sounds like a sigh teetering on the very edge of a purr. Every tentacle that can reach your skin is clinging on tight. 


End file.
